One month ago, April 22, 1866, Dar es Salaam Port.
Today, the immigrants from First Town and the colonial officers came to Dar es Salaam Port to receive goods. Unlike usual, more people were dispatched today.
"Old Qian, why did Master Kilman call us over today? Usually, it's their own people who come to this place," an immigrant asked.
"How would I know? Just do what the officers tell us to do, no need for so much chatter," Old Qian replied.
"I'm just worried. It's been hard enough to get a full meal in First Town. What if they send us back to the Qing Country?"
"Stop overthinking. Master Kilman needs us to grow crops for them. The land here is barren, and those natives are clumsy, not even knowing how to farm. Master Kilman can't possibly farm the land himself, right? So what are you afraid of?"
As the two continued chatting, they saw a few large ships appear on the horizon.
"Judging by this, could they be new immigrants? Last time we were brought over by that big ship."
